


carelessly beloved

by skydork (klismaphilia)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Comfort Sex, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pansexual Character, Romanticism, Trans Character, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:38:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7211927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klismaphilia/pseuds/skydork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was the only reason he ever felt at ease with himself anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	carelessly beloved

He felt vulnerable. 

 

The gentle caresses as Padmé undid the bindings from around his chest weren’t enough to even instill a feeling of calm. Even with how long they’d known each other- how long  _ she had known-  _ there was some part of it that didn’t go away, the feeling of exposure as her soft eyes met his. 

 

Of course, she’d been radiant even then- and maybe he’d always known, always wondered what it would be like to run hands across her bare flesh, taste the warmth of lips against his own. But there was an underlying fear… the worry that this wasn’t enough, wasn’t enough for  _ her,  _ that  _ he would never be good enough… _

 

The silence just seems to bring more emotion into his body as it forces its way into his head, and Anakin tenses, goes rigid almost under the ministrations of a small, dainty hand resting on his unbound chest, a laugh escaping him as he’s pushed back against the mattress and there’s a firm press of lips to his, a smile on her face.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says to her finally. There’s something in that sentence, something around her, that feels… free. And Force, he’s never felt so free- a slave, a Jedi… not here and not now. Not bound by code or Master. Not  _ bound,  _ even as vulnerable as it makes him.

 

And she’s whispering something in response to him, and all he can say is, “They always ignore it… shove me off like I’m a freak, like I’m…” a pause. “The Council doesn’t understand- they don’t understand anything… they won’t even grant me the right to something I  _ fought for _ and succeeded. Do you think…” there’s a sharp intake of breath, a rough sigh as Padmé slips away to settle on her side against fine blankets, staring at him. 

 

“Oh, Ani.” And it’s a voice that’s slightly remorseful, but there’s an undertone that says she’s not surprised at all, not surprised by the question or the hesitance- surprising hesitance- in which it was asked. “You need to speak your mind once in awhile. You’re very drunk- rambling again. What are you thinking?” And perhaps some of it was the result of the Twi'lek liquor in his system- he wasn't sure. But certainly, the thoughts needed to be voiced... kept spilling out even when he didn't want them to. It was like a cross between desperation and enmity- whether toward himself or another, he wasn't sure.

 

He just needed her touch to mend it- to make everything go away and clear the muddled thoughts. The comfort of her touch was real, not imagined... just as on Tatooine when they'd first laid eyes on each other.

 

“Nothing in particular…” A sigh, abrupt, before it’s being shaken off, and he’s rolling over, on top of her with a leg between hers as her thighs fall apart and she almost smirks, arching into the touch with a hand thrown around his back and eyes staring with a pressing amount of  _ need. _

 

“I’m certain it’s nothing…” there’s a telling tone in that, a near laugh before the continuation of, “What do you think you’re doing, Anakin Skywalker?”

 

“Having my way with you.”

 

“Oh, I’m certain you are…”

 

“You’re absolutely devious like this.” Lips are being claimed in a kiss again, rough and full of pressure, heady touches heating already frenzied bodies as the skirt of her dress is pushed up and a hand settles between her thighs, her own coming up to cup one side of her lover’s chest with a breathy murmur of content escaping her lips.

 

“You know I don’t care about your body. You’re still my husband.” It’s honest, he thinks, as her hand trails down the side of his neck, across defined muscle before sliding between his legs and pressing fingers against rough heat, so close to sliding inside, right where he needs it, needs  _ her,  _ and his thighs are just barely opening to her touch, pressing back as they rub insistently at him.

 

“Oh-” a surprised gasp, that’s nearly followed by a moan. “ _ Force, _ Padmé… I…” there are almost no words left in the Jedi’s mouth, biting down on his lip to muffle an embarrassing noise. His own fingers are pressing into her roughly, sliding into wetness and touching her core, nearly ecstatic and filling her head with light as she tilts it back and opens herself up more.

 

“You’re the only thing I need anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm just gonna go... this was demanding to be written.


End file.
